


here comes a greek tragedy

by aryasbadbenergy



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Hockey AU, Olympics AU, Sexual Tension, alternating povs, arya is like 24 and gendry is like 27 for most of the story, figure skating AU, implied sex, this is angst city, vaguely
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:01:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22284511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aryasbadbenergy/pseuds/aryasbadbenergy
Summary: after arya’s partner twists his ankle during a particularly stressful practice, her coach believes the best course of action is to ask arya’s former hookup to help her practice. what could go wrong?named for the song “greek tragedy” by the wombats !!
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters
Comments: 159
Kudos: 189





	1. you could set me free

**Author's Note:**

> for oryss on tumblr! thank you so much for the blessing to write this aha!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> arya and gendry meet for the first time

** Without her in a gloom, cold sweating in my tomb **

** If she was only here with me **

** She is the pale blushing moon, to cast sun into my room **

** She is the only light I need, yeah **

** So sink your fangs, fangs, fangs, into me **

** Only for you, you, you, I'll bleed **

** Can't you see, that you could set me free? **

** So sink your fangs, fangs, fangs, into me **

** Fangs ~ Night Riots **

Arya and Jon were half in love with the USA Ice Hockey team by the time they made it to Nationals, and fully in love with the center, Gendry Waters.

Normally, Jon would not be able to admit his love for another man so easily, but when his own wife yelled that she would sell Jon for five minutes alone with him during his winning shot that got them to Nationals, Jon had to agree. 

It’s different seeing the team in person, though. Arya shakes Jon’s arm every time the team scores and Jon hollers while Mycah pretends that he doesn’t know either of them. She sees him grin when it is announced over the intercom that the team is ahead at halftime, though. 

Jon agrees to refill the drinks during halftime and Arya turns to Mycah. “Even if you’re not the biggest fan of hockey, you have to agree that this is cool as hell.”

Mycah rolls his eyes at her. “Do you really like hockey, Arya, or are you just crushing on the center?” he teases. 

“Of course I like hockey! My dad had us watch it all the time! _And,_ ” she entertains, “I can’t even see Waters from up here, so the fact that he is hot is completely irrelevant.” 

“He is pretty hot,” Mycah says. 

Arya rolls her eyes and bumps his shoulder with her own. 

* * *

When Arya had first asked Theon to make her and Mycah a fake, he tried to avoid the topic at all costs, but Arya convinced him that his fakes were top notch, and if they got caught trying to use someone else’s, they were sure to get in a ton of trouble. The fakes worked well enough to get Arya and Mycah into the crowded bar close to the arena after Jon had gone to sleep, and Arya and Mycah couldn’t hold back their grins of disbelief. Of course they had hoped it would work, but they weren’t going to let it ruin their night if it hadn’t. 

“Do you think the fakes could work well enough to get us a drink?” Arya whisper-shouts into Mycah’s ear. 

“You? Definitely not! You’re _America’s Sweetheart,_ niece of the famous Lyanna Stark!” He mocks, teasingly. “I’ll try for both of us, though!” Arya grins and searches for any empty seats, preferably two by each other so she can sit by Mycah. She spots two empty seats eventually, but a man sits in the middle of the two spots, and if she wasn’t running off the high of her favorite team winning, the chance that her and Mycah might actually make it to the Olympics, and the fact that she had even just gotten into the bar, she probably would’ve just left the man alone and searched somewhere else.

“Hi, excuse me,” the man turns, and Arya forgets every word that she’s ever known. She blinks at him for a moment, and he raises his eyebrows at her. 

“Cat got your tongue?” His voice sounds different than it had in the interview her and Jon had celebrated to early that evening and Arya stays frozen. She opens her mouth to say something, but she’s not sure what exactly, because she is not about to ask _The_ Gendry Waters if he could scootch down a seat so she could sit together with her friend, but she also figured that if she expressed her pure awe for him it would be a little strange and juvenile. 

“What? Do you want like an autograph or something?” He snaps and Arya furrows her eyebrows and unfreezes. 

“No. I was gonna ask if you could move down instead of taking up a seat on each side of you, actually.” She puts a hand on her hip and stares at him. He doesn’t move so Arya adds a “please” just in case it helps. 

“Well, since you asked so _nicely_ , sure.” He grabs his beer and moves down a seat and motions to the empty seats. Arya sits down and silently scolds herself for not wanting to sacrifice her pride over a signed napkin, at least, for Jon who did volunteer to accompany Mycah and Arya to Nationals along with Syrio as the only other adult present. 

Arya bites her lip, not really wanting to sit in silence with him, but she’s not the biggest fan of small talk. “What are you doing here alone if you thought I was coming up to you for an autograph?” 

Waters lets out a chuff of laughter. “I’m not alone, my friends are over there,” he points to a booth over in the corner where one guy is chugging as many beers as he can while another boy slaps the table by him. Arya gives him a small laugh back, thinking that she would probably need to get away from that, too, but almost considers blowing her evening to text Jon that while, yes, she did sneak out, at least 75% of the hockey team is in the bar that she’s at and that he needs to get here immediately. “And that’s a bold thing for you to say when you made me move down for a friend that is nowhere to be seen.”

Arya can’t stop a small smile at his banter. 

“He’s getting our drinks.” Gendry gives her a mocking nod and takes a drink of his own beer. 

“You on a date?”

Arya bites her lip again to not blush. Even if the question was purely out of interest, she had not been prepared for it. 

“No,” she says, too quickly. “He’s a friend. What about you? Are you on a date with any of those fine gentlemen?” She teases, motioning to his friends with her head. 

He laughs and shakes his head. “That was good. Well-deserved.”

Was she actually borderline flirting with Gendry Waters? She would have to tell this to Jon. But maybe some other time, when she’s like twenty five. Or maybe forty. 

“Are you from around here?”

She opens her mouth, but gets cut off. “There you are!” Mycah grins at her and Arya moves to the middle seat so Mycah can sit on the edge seat. He sets down a beer in front of her and himself. “That was surprisingly e-“ Arya gives him a soft elbow to the ribs to get him to shut up. He gives her a dirty look but she aggressively tilts her head towards Waters and Mycah can only blink for a moment, much like Arya. 

“Mycah, this is…” She trails off and looks to Waters, not wanting him to know that she actually does know who he is. 

“Gendry. Now, what’s your name?” He asks Arya. 

She almost hesitates. There was nothing that the press would love more than for Arya to have a casual one-night stand when her whole reputation was built on being perfect, curtesy of her mother. She couldn’t risk it. “Nymeria.”

“Nymeria,” he repeats. “That’s different.” 

“It’s Northern,” she replies. Mycah nudges her thigh with his knee. She turns to look at him. He raises his eyebrows and Arya shrugs in response.

He presses his mouth to her ear. “Is he giving you the look?” Arya pulls away from Mycah’s words and shakes her head. 

“Shut up,” she insists and turns back to Gendry.

“So, are you guys from around here?” He asks again. 

“We’re from a little bit up north,” she says. “What about you?”

“Little bit south.”

“What brought you up here?” Mycah asks. 

“Hockey,” Gendry answers, but he looks at Arya. “Nice necklace.”

Arya grabs the small charm. She firmly holds onto the belief that wearing the five golden overlapping rings will bring her luck, like it did for her Aunt Lyanna before her. “Thanks. Nice tattoo.”

Gendry smiles and covers the matching rings on his wrist. 

“Luck,” they clarify at the same time. 

“Jinx,” Arya grins. Gendry smiles back and takes another drink of his beer before he stands. Arya grabs Mycah’s wrist to look at the time on his watch. It was only 11, and she didn’t think that she had said anything wrong. 

“I’ll be right back,” Gendry says and walks away from the bartop. Mycah squeezes Arya’s arm as soon as Gendry leaves their line of sight. 

“Are you serious, Arya Stark? I leave you alone for ten minutes and somehow you’ve managed to just talk casually with the center of our team!” Arya grins and Mycah shakes her. “What did you even say to him!”

Arya lets out a laugh. “I made him switch seats so that I could sit by you,” she admits. 

“You did _what_? To Waters! Oh my God, if Jon were here he would _die_!” 

“I know!” 

“He seems to like you.” 

“Yeah, and I think we should add a quadruple jump to our long program,” Arya mocks. Mycah rolls his eyes. “Oh I thought we were just saying things that were crazy.”

Mycah shakes her again. “If you blow a chance like this I might just have to drop you.”

“Yeah, _right_! You think you could get to the Olympics without me?” Arya grins and pushes Mycah’s arm away so he stops shaking her. 

“I’ll coach you through this,” Mycah brags. “I’ve learned enough teaching skills from Syrio.”

“Syrio would be disappointed in the way that you’re applying them.”

“Shut up. Get him to buy you a drink and then seal the deal.”

“I don’t want another drink. We have to train tomorrow.”

“God, my knowledge is truly wasted on you.” He sighs, dramatically. “Ask what he’s doing later.”

Arya grabs a handful of the pretzels at the bar and stuffs them into her mouth to avoid having to talk more about it with Mycah. 

“That’s cute,” he says. “How many chances do you think you’ll have for this? You and Frey broke up, and now some super hot guy going to the Olympics is talking to you at a bar.” Arya chews her pretzels slowly.

“I don’t want to come on too strong. What if he’s not interested?”

“He’s interested in you. You look really hot in that top. You’re fine. And you were rude to him and he’s still talking to you.” 

Arya tugs at the sleeves of her tight shirt and gives Mycah a firm nod. 

“Cover for me?”

“Please. When Jon asks tomorrow morning, you’ve been training since the crack of dawn and I’m on my way to meet you.”

Arya presses a kiss to Mycah’s cheek. “You’re the best! I love you!” 

Mycah dramatically wipes his face. “Yeah, well, if someone super hot wants to take me back to their hotel room at the Olympics, you better believe that you will be returning this favor to me.”

Arya grins and Mycah gives her a hug. “I’ll see you tomorrow for our last practice before we’re Olympic-bound.” She grins at his statement. “And don’t forget that tomorrow night we’re watching Dirty Dancing, no matter what!” Arya nods and Mycah leaves the bar. She finishes Mycah’s beer and takes a deep breath before taking another drink from her own.

Gendry sits back down in the spot next to her. “Where’s your friend?”

“He wasn’t feeling the best, so he went home.” Gendry nods. Arya turns to face Gendry and crosses her legs. She brushes his knee with her calf. Chugging Mycah’s beer starts to hit her, and while it makes her face turn a little red, she feels a little bolder than she had. 

“Does it make me crass to say that I’m not disappointed to hear that?” Gendry asks.

Arya smirks. “Maybe a little. What he doesn’t know what hurt him.” She takes a drink from her beer. 

“Want another?” He asks. 

Arya shakes her head. She only drank when she was with Mycah because they knew exactly how to handle each other. One and a half would be a good limit for her tonight. 

“Yeah, I’m probably gonna cut myself off, too.”

Arya takes another drink from her beer. She would make Mycah proud with her next question. 

“What are your plans after this?” Gendry shrugs. 

“Probably to call an uber for them and then go back to my hotel,” he says, looking back at his teammates who had finally started to ease their celebrating. She’s pretty sure one of them was sleeping on the table. 

“Yeah, you should probably do that.” He shakes his head a little and pulls his phone out. 

“One second,” he walks over to his team and nudges the sleeping boy on the shoulder. He talks to them until they seem to process what he is saying and start to stack their glasses and straighten up the table while they wait for their ride. 

“Hope they don’t get you a bad rating,” Arya comments when Gendry makes his way back up to her. She finishes her beer. 

“I hope so, too.”

”Do you want company for the second half of your evening?” 

* * *

Gendry pushes her up against the door of his hotel room once it shuts and runs his hands down her sides. He reaches the hem of her shirt and tugs it up. Arya lifts her arms and he pulls it over her head before moving his lips to her neck. 

Arya runs her fingers through his hair and pulls on the bottom of his shirt. Gendry breaks the kiss to take his shirt off. She smiles and lets Gendry pick her up. Mycah would be shocked. 

She pulls at the laces on her shoes until they’re loose enough to take off. Gendry laughs at her as he takes off one of her shoes to prevent her from falling. He lets her back down, which is probably for the best, and Arya fumbles with the button of his jeans. “I do know you. I’ve watched your games and stuff,” she admits. 

“Yeah, I could tell, earlier,” he says and reaches for the button to do it himself. Arya blushes a little. 

“I froze up because I didn’t expect you to be such a dick,” she teases and presses another kiss to his lips. 

“Hockey’s an aggressive sport. Not really sure what you expected, then,” he smirks and nudges her towards the edge of his hotel bed.

* * *

Arya forgets about her 6:15 alarm the next morning, and realizes too late that she and Mycah are supposed to meet with Syrio at 6:45. She reaches for her phone to shut it off, but it takes her too long and Gendry starts to stir beside her. She bites her lip, not really sure what she was supposed to do in this situation. She’s thankful that she had pulled her shirt back on last night, and she scrambles to find her remaining clothes before he wakes up, but Gendry lets out a groan and rubs his eyes. 

“What time is it?” 

“6:15,” she rushes out, pissed that she hadn’t confined her clothes to one area. So far she’s only been able to find one sock. 

“Christ,” he sighs. “This is why I never drink before an early morning.” 

“Sorry. I wake up by 7 everyday, so I forget that it makes a difference to some people.”

He lets out of chuff of laughter and pushes the sheets back. 

“Do you want coffee before you go?” 

Arya locates her jeans and gives him a small nod. 

She sends Mycah a curt text asking him to cover for her with Syrio again so she at least has time to take a shower when she gets back to her room. Coincidentally, her and Gendry were only a few floors away from Arya’s room with Mycah. 

She finishes getting dressed after finding her bra somehow under the bed, and accepts the travel cup from Gendry, who’s reading something off of his phone. She pours some sugar and cream into it and blows a bit to cool it down. She digs into her small bag to find something to tie her hair up and Gendry stares at her for a second. 

“Are you Arya Stark?”

She furrows her eyebrows at him while he looks back at his phone. How did he find that out? She nods slowly.

He clenches his jaw for a second and Arya pulls her hair into a ponytail. She turns away to snap a lid onto the coffee cup. 

”That’s interesting since last night you told me that your name was Nymeria, and you were here with the curling team.” 

Arya bites her tongue. “Why would you lie about that?”

”I didn’t want you to talk to the press about it,” she admits. 

“So you _lied_? You could have just asked me not to talk to the press! I would have done it!”

”Well, I didn’t know for sure and I’m only nineteen so I shouldn’t have been drinking at the bar in the first place! I didn’t want you to recognize who I was and I didn’t want it cause a scandal!”

”You were afraid of a scandal? Guess it runs in the family." Gendry remarks. "I hope I don’t see you at the Olympics.” 

Arya scowls and grabs her stuff. “Yeah, I think I was right. You _are_ a dick.”

“And you’re a liar, so I think we’re even now, huh?” She slams the door on her way out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so excited to finally share this!! it’s been in the works for a long time but i’ve just never been able to really like the ideas that i had for it but then all the sudden i got hit with the right vibe i wanted aha and here we are !! i have no idea when the next chapter will be up aha but hopefully soon!


	2. comeback kid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> arya and gendry are reunited by chance (and syrio)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so i did a time skip ((rip yalls olympic village dreams)) and its been just a little over five years since the last chapter
> 
> also this story has povs from both arya and gendry so make sure you pay attention aha bc sometimes it does switch in the middle of chapters but it’s usually only one switch in a chapter it doesn’t just keep changing back and forth

** Kid came back a real turn around **

** Please believe that I want to stay **

** Got a job now that my brother found **

** Working nights just a mile away **

** Don't let me slip away **

** I'm not runaway **

** It just feels that way **

** Comeback kid **

** Comeback kid **

** Comeback Kid ~ Sharon Vet Etten **

"Do you call that a fucking Lutz?"

"Excuse me?"

"Your landing was so sloppy, I'm surprised that you didn't break your ankle!"

"Arya!" Syrio warns.

"That wasn't sloppy! I've been doing it that way for-"

"Years, I know! And if you do it that way at Nationals, we'll never make it to the Olympics!"

"I'm just dragging you down, then, aren't I?" He sneers. 

"Well, if the skate fits!" Arya hisses and skates to the center of the ice. Lommy turns red as Syrio lets out a sigh. Arya looks back to Lommy. "Lommy, I-- I didn't mean that."

"Yes, you did! We haven't had a practice in two months where you haven't insulted me!"

"I’m just stressed!"

"Yes, I know! You remind me every day!"

Arya lets out a huff. They didn’t have time for Lommy to breakdown during practice. “Again.”

“Are you fucking serious?”

“I said _again_.”

Lommy glares and skates towards her, roughly grabbing her hand. Syrio restarts the track and Arya gives off her quick competition smile, even though the only audience member is Syrio. She faces Lommy and he moves back with the music. Arya follows him him for a moment before turning to skate by his side. The music tone shifts, signaling the time for his first jump, the Lutz. 

“Don’t be sloppy,” Arya mutters before Lommy takes off into his Lutz. He turns perfectly, and while Arya has her own move to do, she has to make sure that Lommy lands correctly before she worries about her own choreography. 

A scream cuts through the arena and Lommy falls. He grabs a hold of his ankle and glares at Arya once again. 

“This is your fault!” Arya opens her mouth, but she’s interrupted. 

“Hush! Let me look at it,” Syrio says and makes his way over to the pair. He clicks his tongue when Lommy winces while he inspects the damage. “Arya, I need to take him to the doctor. Help me get him in the car and then go home.” 

Arya opens her mouth again, ready to apologize. She didn’t mean for Lommy to get hurt, truly. “Lommy, I--I’m sorry--” Syrio snaps his fingers and points to one of Lommy’s shoulders. She helps Syrio lift and carry him to the edge of the rink before Arya quickly sticks her guards over the blades of her skates to carry him the rest of the way. Lommy vehemently ignores every attempt she makes to apologize. 

* * *

Arya thumbs through the magazine rack in the waiting room, settling on one that features “Never Before Seen” photos from the Olympics. Arya lets out a small scoff. Has the author never heard of the internet? 

She tugs the magazine from its spot and flips through the pages. They were mostly just pictures of the athletes during the events, with several shots in the hockey pages focusing on Waters. Jon hadn’t quite outgrown that phase yet, but Arya can assure herself that she has and even rolls her eyes before she flips to the figure skating section. The Gold Medalist pair took up two whole pages and Arya puts the magazine back.

“That was quite the nasty scene,” Syrio says. Arya doesn't turn away from the rack to look at him.

“If he couldn’t complete a Lutz, I don’t want him for a partner,” she says.

“You are being ridiculous. He is a wonderful skater.”

“I’m looking for a partner that I can go to the Olympics with. Clearly, Lommy does not fit that criteria.”

“Arya. I have stuck by you while you have gone through partner after partner, but I will not stand by any longer if you continue to take your frustrations out on him! You can not hate every partner you have simply because they are not Mycah--”

“ _Don’t_.” Arya turns. Syrio stares at her for a moment. 

“Lommy will be well in two months. In the meantime, I’ll find someone to stand in for him.” 

"You shouldn't bother yourself with it, Syrio." Arya starts to say, but Syrio leaves the waiting room before she finishes.

* * *

_Gendry_

“Hey, if you don’t get off--”

“What? You’ll tell your little brother on me?” The teenager mocks. Gendry lets out a low sigh. His job opportunities weren’t exactly pouring in after his accident, and if the best job he could get was to Zamboni the ice at his younger brother’s ice rink, so be it. At least he was still on ice. 

“Get the fuck off the ice or I swear I will run you over,” Gendry threatens. The kid scoffs at him and rolls his eyes. Gendry steers towards the kid who went back to practicing his drills. The teen lets out a yelp and scrambles to get off the rink before Gendry reaches him. 

“You’re fucking crazy!”

“Tell me about it!” Gendry shouts back as the kid finally leaves the building.

“Yes, I think you will do well!” The shout from somewhere in the arena almost knocks him off his seat. Gendry looks around, searching for the voice. “Over here!” The man shouts from the first floor entrance. 

“I wasn’t-- I wasn’t actually gonna hurt that kid!” Gendry protests. He really wouldn’t have, but it was so much easier to pretend to do that instead of having to wait for a security guard. And Gendry had plans after work. 

“Oh, I’m not worried about that,” The man says. He walks toward Gendry. “You are healed, yes?”

“I’m _what_?” Gendry shuts the Zamboni off. 

“Healed. Your femur.”

“I'm sorry, I just-- who are you? What are you doing here?”

“Syrio Forel. I am here to offer you a job.”

“I can’t play hockey, yet," Gendry sighs and turns the machine back on. 

“It’s not hockey.”

* * *

“You’re moving across the state to train with some girl you’ve never met,” Edric lectures the next morning. 

“Yes. Figure skating is actually a really good way to train for hockey and I’ve been off the ice for seven months, so it will be good for me to train with a professional coach. And they’re gonna pay me a ton and I don't even have to find somewhere to live. I get to stay in the house.”

“What if you get hurt again? You’re not supposed to be lifting that often!”

“She’s a hundred pounds. I can lift a hundred pounds. In two months I should be back to my pre-injury ability, which is way more than that.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Well, if someone is gonna pay me to skate again, it sounds like a great idea. Good talk, Eddie.” Gendry ruffles Edric’s hair and gives him a quick pat on the shoulder before he goes back to his room to pack. 

* * *

“I must warn you,” Syrio says to him after Gendry arrives at the manor. Nice of Syrio to warn him after he’s already relocated. “My student, she can be a bit... prickly.”

“Prickly?”

“She’s a tremendous skater. Petite, powerful, intelligent, but many have called her the big ‘B.’” Syrio pauses and watches Gendry. “I’m sure that won’t be a problem for you, though?”

Gendry shrugs. “Not an issue.”

Syrio grins. “Good, good. After you.” Gendry grabs his duffel bag and pushes past the front door. Somewhere in the house, a dog starts barking. Also nice of Syrio to never mention the dog. The large dog barrels towards Gendry before Syrio whistles to him and shouts for him to sit. The dog sits and lets out a low whine before he stretches his neck towards Gendry’s hand to sniff it. His tail starts to wag. 

“Nymeria likes you,” Syrio says. “You can pet her.” Gendry pauses at the name. There was no fucking way it could have been a coincidence. He had never heard the name before _her_. 

“I’m good,” Gendry starts, but Syrio shakes his head. 

“Pet her.” Gendry leans forward and pats the top of herhead. Nymeria licks his hand. 

“Ah, there she is! Arya!” Gendry snaps his head up. “This is Gendry. As you can see, Nymeria has deemed him to be a good match for you.”

“We’ve met.” Arya says, coolly. 

“Oh, really?” Syrio perks up at Arya’s revelation. “How well were you acquainted?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Gendry cuts in. He felt like an idiot. He had tried for the past five years to never think about _her_ , and for the most part he had succeeded. He even considered the possibility when he took the job, but he ruled it out since the chance of it happening seemed slim. Arya makes eye contact with him before she quickly looks away and glares at the front door. “What are the chances, huh?” He thinks about leaving and going back to the Zamboni and skating for an hour in the middle of the night before the rink opens back up for the rest of his recovery time. But he really didn’t want his little brother to have another reason to say _I told you so._ And if he started training seriously again he would have a much better chance of getting back on the Olympic team. 

“I won’t compete with him,” Arya says to Syrio. 

"You aren't going to compete with him, Arya. He is here to help train until Lommy is back. Hockey has no rhythm, no grace," Syrio says. He turns to Gendry. "I don't mean to offend you."

"You didn't. I don't play for the rhythm."

"Arya and I are very grateful for your help," Syrio says. 

"I'm not. I can't stand him." Arya says, again to Syrio only.

"Do you want my help or not?"

"No!" Arya shouts at the same time as Syrio says, "Yes."

"You've never even practiced figure skating! You don't know the first thing about it! What's an Axel spin?" Arya finally speaks to him. 

“I don’t know. I don’t need to know.” 

“Take too many pucks to the head?”

“If I remember it right that is a feature of mine that you didn’t seem to dislike before.”

“Well, re-remember it, then!” Arya snaps before she turns and stomps back up the steps. 

“We’re meeting on the ice at five tomorrow, whether you want to or not!” Syrio calls after her. He lets out a sigh before he leads Gendry up to the bedroom he will be staying in. "If you're hungry, there's plenty of food in the fridge if you head downstairs and to the left. And don't be alarmed, but her siblings have dogs as well," Syrio says. "Be up in time to leave at 4:30. Arya does not like to be kept waiting."

“Yeah, thanks. Do I have to wear those tight outfits?” Gendry asks Syrio and hears Arya scream into a pillow across the hall in response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you all liked the new chapter ! thanks for reading!! :)))


	3. i’ll still kick your ass even in my skirt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> arya and gendry’s first practice together ((warning: major cutting edge vibes))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so i had to tweak a little bit of the story bc i literally just Could Not. i just changed arya omitting her age to arya being 19 and choosing not to use her name because of the press aha sorry i usually don’t ever change large details like that after the chapter has already been posted but this time it felt necessary

**You're talkin' to me like I'm hurt **

** At least I'm not six feet in the dirt **

** And I'll still kick your ass even in my skirt **

** You're talkin' to me like a child **

** But I'm not a helpless baby **

** Not waitin' on you to come save me **

** I'm like nobody else, so you can just go fuck yourself **

** I do a lot of stupid stuff but don't act like you're so tough **

** Seashore ~ The Regrettes **

_ Gendry _

Gendry stretches in the stands while Arya aggressively laces her skates on the bench. “Is Syrio usually late?” Generally, a little tardiness didn’t bother Gendry, but when he was told specifically to meet on the ice at 4:30 and not be late, it’s a little annoying. Arya lets out a huff before she merely gives Gendry a dirty look without so much as a shake of the head. 

“Someone piss in your cereal or something? Christ,” Gendry rolls his eyes and switches to his leg. Arya tugs her laces tighter. “Careful, you might hurt yourself,” Gendry says.

Arya looks up for a moment to glare at him. “I’m not in the habit of hurting myself, unlike you. _Guess it runs in the family_ ,” Arya spits. Gendry clenches his jaw for a moment.

“Yeah if I was Lommy I would’ve been fucking grateful to get out of training with you, too.” Arya grabs one of her skate guards from beside her leg and chucks it at Gendry’s head. He ducks just in time for it to miss and skid across the ice. 

“You should work on your aim!”

“Yeah, well you should—“

“I could hear you from across the town!” Syrio interrupts, as he pushes through the doors. 

“You’re late.” Arya says.

“And you’re cranky!” Syrio grins at her and pulls his scarf off. “I do apologize, something came up.”

“Are you okay?” She stands.

“So nosey! Hopefully you’re both stretched up and ready to go, though. I do hate losing those precious seven minutes, Arya.” She cracks a small smile at Syrio’s mocking. 

* * *

“Are you not going to practice in figure skates?” Arya asks.

“I’ve been skating in hockey skates for longer than you’ve been alive, so I think it’s probably the best option for both of us.” 

“But-”

“He’s right. No sense in relearning how to skate when he is going back to hockey right after this.”

Arya nods. “He probably wouldn’t be able to handle the toe pick, anyway.” Gendry gets the overwhelming urge to prove her wrong, but he really can’t risk re-injuring his leg. 

* * *

“Gods, it’s freezing. I’ve got my gear and on top of that I’m always moving,” Gendry grumbles to Syrio. Syrio lets out a small chuckle, in his sweater, scarf, gloves, and thick wool pants. 

“Try it in a tiny skirt,” Arya quips. 

“You’ll be moving soon enough, Gendry. You must learn the routine first.”

* * *

“You want me to put my hands where?” Gendry raises his eyebrows.

“You heard me,” Syrio says.

“Grow up,” Arya grumbles. 

* * *

"How many teeth do you have?" 

"How many friends do you have?"

* * *

“To be honest, I don’t like figure skaters! I think the lot of you are stuck-up assholes!”

“Then why take this job?”

“Did it ever occur to you that I needed to take this job?”

“You’re a celebrated Olympian, I’m sure there were other offers!”

“No, not really! I shattered my femur at the Olympics! Believe it or not, very few teams wanted a benched player!”

“Believe it or not, but very few coaches are hired to watch their students argue all day! Stay civil or keep your mouths closed!” Syrio shouts, and waves his hand to signal that he wants them to repeat the move. 

* * *

Gendry lifts Arya by her hands and successfully gets her head over his. She steadies her hands and almost lets out a sigh of relief. 

“Good! Try skating this time!” Syrio says and Gendry brings Arya back down to her skates. 

“Fucking drop me, I dare you,” she mutters. 

“Really? You dare me?” Gendry asks and skates towards her while she skates backwards.

Syrio covers his face with his hand and lets out a groan that nearly shakes the arena. Arya nods. “You better not drop me.”

“Have I dropped you yet?” He grabs her hands and she kicks off the ice for Gendry to lift her. They skate a few feet before they both start to teeter. 

_Fuck_.

One of Arya’s hands slips out of his own, and he grabs her torso before he lets her fall. She gets her skates back on the ice and Syrio lets out a long breath. “You dared me to drop you,” he teases. “But I caught you.” She pushes his chest away and skates back to the center of the ice. 

“Again,” she says.

* * *

_Arya_

Thousands of figure skaters in the US who needed a partner and Syrio managed to find, not only a _hockey player_ , but Gendry fucking Waters. 

And Syrio invited him to live in the same house, and Arya, unwittingly, agreed to be across the hall from him. And he had some nerve, agreeing to actually be her partner and agreeing to take Syrio’s side in the matter. 

It only added salt to the wounds that Nymeria likes him because he keeps scratching her ears every time she nudges his hands, and that both Jon and Rickon start freaking out in the doorway when Arya tells them that he is here. 

Jon even texted Ygritte so that she could come over and meet him. Arya had to roll her eyes at them. She’s probably only five minutes away from catching them facetiming Bran, and Bran doesn’t even _like_ hockey. 

Arya finally deems her brothers calm enough to move past the foyer, and lets them loose into the living room. 

She’s pretty sure Rickon _pinches_ himself when he sees Gendry. Maybe Arya should just move out of the family home and avoid this bullshit all together. 

Jon outstretches his hand to Gendry. “Hey, I’m Jon, Arya’s older brother.” Gendry accepts the handshake. 

“Nice to meet you, I’m Gendry.”

“I know.” Gendry nods and gives him a small smile. “I mean, Rickon and I, huge fans. Arya used to be a huge fan, too, but then I think she got a little jealous of the hockey players getting so much more glory.”

“Not true,” Arya says. 

“It’s not?” Gendry asks, with an almost innocent look towards her.

Fucking Syrio. She had never really explained to Jon that she had met Gendry before, especially since the circumstances were something that Jon would not like to know about. She definitely would not do it now that Gendry was living in their house. _Fucking Syrio._

He was probably meditating somewhere, leaving Arya to suffer through this alone. Although, Arya could leave the room at any time. 

“Arya didn’t mention that you would be her new partner,” Jon says, clearly still trying to keep his cool. 

“That’s because I didn’t know,” Arya says. 

“I’m Rickon!” Rickon interjects, clearly not interested in Arya when one of his favorite hockey players is in their living room. 

“I was watching the game when you broke your leg! Your bone came-“

“ _Rickon_ ,” Arya hisses. Gendry shifts uncomfortably. She was wrong. She clearly can’t leave her brothers alone with Gendry. 

“Sorry,” Rickon says, sheepishly. 

“I’m gonna go lay down, now. Your sister feels very strongly about making every minute count.”

Jon watches Gendry leave the room before turning to Rickon. “Nice going. Bring up his near-retiring injury, Christ. This is why we can’t have nice things.”

“He’ll probably be here for a few months, don’t worry,” Arya grumbles. 

* * *

Arya flips one of the grilled cheese sandwiches in the pan. She turns to Rickon. “What did you get on your Great Gatsby test?”

“A sixty-four. But to be fair, I did not read the book,” he grins and shoots a finger gun at Arya. 

“Rickon. You had a month to read it.”

“I still passed! What am I gonna learn from the Great Gatsby that I can’t learn from my own life? I know enough about it from memes on Twitter, it’s fine.”

“You could have at least watched the movie. Or read a Sparknotes summary,” Arya sighs.

“This is true, but I was busy.”

“Rickon, I was skating five hours a day when I was in high school and still managed to do my homework.” Rickon zips up his hockey bag. 

“That sounds like a ‘you’ problem,” he says with a smile on his face. Arya hands him his sandwich with a grin and a shake of her head. 

“Thank you,” Rickon takes the sandwich and leaves for practice. 

* * *

Arya wakes up feeling like she hasn’t drank water since 1996, and groans when she realizes that her water bottle is empty. She makes her way down to the kitchen and almost walks right into Gendry. 

“Oh my God,” she mutters. She should’ve just told Syrio that the partner could’ve stayed in a hotel. She regrets some of the decisions of past her.

“Just me,” he says. 

Arya can’t think of a better way to describe her feelings other than she just wants to throttle him everytime he opens his mouth. She grabs a glass. 

“You better not say a word about what happened at Nationals,” she finally tells him. Gendry kind of laughs at her threat. Arya grabs his arm. “I’m serious. If you tell anyone, they’ll never finish counting the blade marks in your back.” 

“I’m not gonna tell anyone.”

“Not even Syrio. No one can know.” 

“Fine, Jesus,” he rolls his eyes. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” Arya lets go of his arm.


	4. ain't finished til the finish line comes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> syrio might have lost his temper and might have locked arya and gendry in the rink overnight so they learn to at least stop arguing all the time

** Throw my soul to the real world, my senses are keen **

** In my blood I'm a warrior, the crown's growing on me **

** See me comin' 'round the corner, it's my name you'll remember **

** Ain't finished 'til the finish line comes **

** No limit 'til the limit is done **

**Finish Line ~ Jules Larson**

_Arya_

“Oh, fuck this! I’m going home. I might be back tomorrow, depending on if the Ice Princess is willing to apologize or not!”

Arya gapes at Syrio, hardly believing that he is just going to let Gendry walk out. 

Gendry chucks his skates into his duffel bag and pushes out the front door. Syrio takes a drink of his tea, not acknowledging Gendry’s exit. 

“Syrio, what the hell?” Gendry shouts, running back into the arena. 

"You two act like little children." Syrio sets his tea down. 

“So you had my truck towed?”

"Always bickering! So, team bonding," he says, and places a duffel bag on the bench. "I will be back in the morning."

"What?" They both shout at the same time. 

"If you want to skate, Arya, and if you want to play again, Gendry, you two will bond. Or for my sake, you will try harder to pretend to like each other when you train."

"You can't just leave us here!" Arya protests. 

"I can. I will. Unless you plan to sue me, I don’t care what you want," Syrio says with a slight shrug.

Arya opens her mouth. "You’ll catch flies," Syrio mocks. "I have left you food and water and blankets. You will not die. I will take you to pick up your truck in the morning, Gendry."

Arya glares at Syrio as he locks the door behind him.

“This is your fault!” Gendry shouts at her.

“ _ My _ fault? How the fuck is it my fault?”

“If you weren’t so fucking rude all the time we wouldn’t always be fighting!”

“Well maybe if you hadn’t threatened to walk out yesterday Syrio wouldn’t have locked us in here tonight!”

“Yeah and maybe if you would just be nice and let me do my fucking job that I came here to do, I wouldn’t have threatened to walk out!” 

“Maybe if you hadn’t kicked me out that morning and compared what I did to  _ what my Aunt did _ I wouldn’t be so angry all the time!”

“And maybe if you had just told me the truth all along I never would have fucking--Jesus Christ!” He shoves past her and snatches up his skate guards before heading to the locker room. 

* * *

“Are you fucking kidding me,” Arya grumbles and hits the glass with her fist. She had seventy-five cents inside of the vending machine and twenty-five had just rolled under it. It was hard enough to scrounge up four quarters, and she doubted that she would be able to find another one. Her desired Teddy Grahams sat right up front, just out of her reach. She lets out a sigh and digs through her duffel bag once more. Syrio had left some “snacks” for them, but she figured that if she was trapped in the arena over night that she should at least have something that didn’t pass his health-test. 

She spies Gendry laying on one of the benches just a few feet away from her. It would be the first time since they finished screaming at each other that they have spoken to each other. And it’s definitely a last resort. 

“Do you have a quarter?” Arya asks.

He raises an eyebrow at her and pulls one of his earbuds out. “Why,” he snaps.

“One of my quarters rolled under the vending machine and now I’m twenty-five cents short of some Teddy Grahams.”

“Didn’t Syrio leave food?”

“You know as well as I do that rice cakes are not food.”

“I’m sure I have one.” Arya stares at him for a moment while he continues to just lie there.

“Can I please have it?”

“No. Fuck you.” He puts his earbud back in. 

Arya lets out a deep sigh and plops down on a bench in the front row. 

* * *

Gendry digs through the duffel bag and pulls out a bottle of water. He rummages through the bottom layer and holds up one of the many—plain—rice cakes. 

"What the fuck kind of coach have you had these past twenty years? No wonder you're so hateful,” he grumbles to Arya. 

Arya wasn’t aware that they were speaking to each other now. "Piss off. Syrio Forel is the best ice skating coach in the world." 

“Keep telling yourself that,” he sets the bag back on the bench. “Can’t you call one of your like ten siblings to pick us up or something?”

“I have four. And no, two live in different states and Jon and Rickon aren’t home. Even if Rickon was home, his phone is always at like ten percent, so I doubt he would’ve been available.”

“Well, fuck.”

Gendry reaches into his duffel bag and pulls something out. He hands Arya the quarter. “Thank you,” she says. He nods and reaches back into his bag, presumably to find more quarters since he is not about to eat rice cakes. 

“I’m sorry that I lied to you,” Arya admits. Gendry pauses for a moment, turning his head to look at her. She is still upset with him, and with how he treated her, but she figured that she should at least apologize for the lie she had told him. 

“Good.” She starts to walk away to go get her snack, but then she’s overcome with the desire to explain herself. She didn’t lie just for the hell of it.

“To be honest, I think I just didn’t want to be Arya Stark for a night,” she sighs. 

“What do you mean by that?” He fishes out a few quarters and motions for her to lead the way to the vending machine. 

“Skating is... more than just skating. It’s about your reputation and your looks and your romantic life and family life and I think I just wanted to be able to give that up for a few hours.” 

“I still wish you would’ve just asked me to not tell any reporters. I hate the press.”

“Really?”

“Yes. They’re fucking vultures, especially after I broke my leg they were all crowded around the hospital waiting for me to come out and answer their questions about how my career was most likely over. It was all very kind and considerate.”

Arya nods. “It’s just all so stupid. I just want to be an athlete. I don’t want to have to answer for my choices all the time.” They reach the vending machine and Arya pushes Gendry’s quarter through the slot and types the code for the Teddy Grahams. 

“I know the feeling.” Arya grabs the cookies and moves aside so Gendry can put his quarters in the slot. 

“Sometimes I kind of understand Tonya Harding. I mean, I don’t know enough of the truth to have a good opinion on her since all of the stories are so different from one another. But she was an incredible skater. The judges always underscored her because they didn’t like her personality or that she came from a rough household.” 

“I can sympathize with Tonya,” Gendry says and gives Arya a small smile. “And I accept your apology.”

“Good. I’m glad.”

“Yeah,” he nods. He stares at Arya for a moment. She focuses on the wrinkle between his eyebrows, not really wanting to make eye contact. She wasn’t scared to, but it felt too intimate when she was talking about something so personal. 

He taps the outside of her thigh. She nearly jumps from her skin and backs into the vending machine. “Can’t reach them,” he says. 

“Oh, yeah,” Arya steps forward. The vending machine was at such an awkward angle between the restrooms (appetizing) that she hadn’t realized that she had been blocking the tray. 

Gendry pulls his chips out and opens the bag. They walk aimlessly for a while and make it up to the walkway above the rink. Gendry sits down against the railing. "Why are you doing this?” She doesn’t mean to sound accusatory but she has to know. He could’ve turned the job down. It’s not like he can’t play hockey in just a few months.

Gendry gives her a funny look. 

“Sitting here…?”

“Helping me. You hate me." 

"I don't  _ hate _ you. I think you're kind of an asshole, but..."

Arya sits down next to him, letting her legs dangle over the edge, and offers him a Teddy Graham. He takes one and pops it into his mouth. 

"I made plenty of shitty choices when I was nineteen," Arya rolls her eyes, but a small smile forms on her face at the backhandedness of his reply. "And I had to get back on the ice. Syrio reached out to me because he knew I could skate and I was strong enough to lift you. And I think he knew that you couldn't break me down." He offers a chip to her. 

“I didn’t mean to break down Lommy and Olyvar. I really didn’t.”

“Do you think that maybe you should’ve been a little nicer to them?”

“No,” Arya admits. “They won’t be able to make it to the Olympics unless they start training harder.”

“I heard that Lommy dropped you.”

“A few times.”

“No, I mean that he quit.”

“Where did you hear that?”

“I saw his statement.”

“But he hasn’t said anything to me. Or even Syrio. He talked to the press?” 

“I’m sorry, I—I thought you knew.”

“I didn’t.” Arya presses her forehead against the cold railing. She was too warm up here and she was too close to Gendry and the scent of his shampoo and she was getting a headache from the fluorescents and Lommy dropped her. She knew it would come, but she hoped a phone call would have come before the articles. Arya pulls herself up with the railing. 

“Arya?” Gendry asks, but when she starts to walk away from him, he doesn’t follow her. 

* * *

"What are you doing?"

"Skating."

"I can see that. But it's one in the morning."

"I'm not going to sleep on one of those benches. Do you know what that can do to your back?"

"So you just plan to skate until you collapse on the ice?"

"Basically."

“I’ve got a better idea,” Gendry suggests. 

“Really?” Suspicion edges her voice and she crosses her arms.

“Where’s your storage closet?”

Arya points to the corner of the rink and Gendry skates to the small closet. 

“Look at this!” He grins and pulls out an old hockey stick that had probably belonged to Robb. 

“Oh no. We are  _ not  _ playing hockey,” Arya shakes her head. 

“Come on, it’ll be better than just skating regularly!” Gendry calls back and rifles through the closet before pulling out another hockey stick. “I didn’t see a puck in there.”

“What a shame,” Arya supplies, sarcastically. 

“But it’s alright, I have one with me.”

“You just carry around a hockey puck?”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing,” he almost smiles as he unzips a pocket in his duffel bag and pulls out the hockey puck. 

“I haven’t played hockey in years,” she admits. She used to play with Robb and Theon all the time until her mother and Syrio decided it was too dangerous. 

“Why not?” He flips the puck in the air and catches it before setting it down on the ice.  _ Show off.  _ He hands Arya a stick. 

“Because I needed to stay in prime condition for figure skating.”

“That’s a poor reason to quit.”

“Not to my mother or Syrio.”

“Come on, Stark. I’m sure you’ve still got it.”

* * *

“You just need to turn faster.”

“Try switching direction fast without this on your skate!” Arya grumbles and picks up her figure skates to show him the toe pick. “I don’t know how to turn without it,” she grumbles and tightens the laces on Rickon’s old hockey skates. 

“Well, at least you can change direction quickly without it having to be pretty,” Gendry shrugs. 

“Let me try again.”

Gendry drops the puck and Arya lunges for it. He blocks her with his shoulder and snatches the puck. She tries to shove his stick away to grab the puck, but Gendry moves too fast. Arya finally grabs it while he tries to line up for a shot and she turns. She races towards the net, but Gendry blocks her and grabs the puck back. He starts skating towards his net to score and Arya tries to turn around to catch him again. She loses her balance and tries to use the stick to break her fall, but it only makes the slip worse. 

She lets out a groan. “I think I’ll just die here. I can’t use my legs with these stupid skates on.”

"Come on. The legs feed the wolf,” Gendry shouts from across the rink. 

Arya stands. “Winning feeds the wolf!” She shouts back. “And you stole that line from  _ Miracle on Ice _ !”

* * *

_ Gendry _

Syrio shakes Gendry awake the next morning. “Get up, we’re going to get your car and then we’re going to have practice.” He hands Gendry a warm travel cup with coffee. 

“You’re seriously going to make us practice after we spent the night here?”

“Yes. Builds character.” Gendry groans before he sits up. Arya was right, sleeping on the benches did his back no favors. He takes a moment to stretch before Syrio claps his hand together one time to let him know that they need to go quickly. 

* * *

“I hope you’re not still planning on quitting.” Syrio asks, deeming Gendry awake enough to have a full conversation at four in the morning. 

“I’m not.”

“Good. Lommy sent me an email last night with his resignation. He couldn’t even  _ call _ me,” Syrio mutters. “Now I have to find a replacement before you have your tryouts.”

“I think they’re a few months away, still. I’m sure you’ll find someone great by then.”

“Yes, I suppose. Maybe if you make a statement that talks about how wonderful it is to work with Arya, I will find someone sooner?” Syrio jests. Gendry shrugs. She was not  _ horrible _ to work with. 

“You miss hockey, yes?”

“Of course.”

“For the fame and the glory?”

“Not really.” Gendry didn’t really care about fame or money. He cared about winning and sometimes his father would even mention that he was proud to have Gendry as a son. 

And there were girls. 

He didn’t really know how to talk to girls when he was younger—and still wasn’t quite sure—but the girls were usually not looking for an exceptional conversationalist, so it wasn’t a problem. 

That’s what had intrigued him about Arya. Even if it turned out that she was a fan, she definitely acted like she wasn’t. He had to figure out how to talk with her, although she hadn’t really been interested in a lot of talking either. 

“Arya never cared much for the fame or glory, either. It was always about making her father and Lyanna proud. And she loves it.”

From what Gendry’s father had told him of Lyanna, she may as well have been an angel. She was an incredible skater and she was a public figure, too. And she was so supportive of her father’s campaigns and Gendry never saw a photo or video of her without a smile on her face. 

It starts to make sense why Arya lied to him. Gendry didn’t have to prove anything to his father. He had his brother and sister and he grew up with his mother always being proud of him no matter what. And he wasn’t from a famous family of Olympians, either. But Arya had to be like her aunt and she had something to prove to the world since she took her first steps. 

Gendry didn’t really have a reputation to uphold—unless he wants to be like his father, but that reputation is vastly different from Arya’s—especially since he was a guy and hockey was more gruff. You don’t have to be a good person and wear fancy costumes, you just have to be good at hockey. 

“But that’s what I miss skating for. All the glory. I was the best in Braavos. But then I had my fall.”

“I can understand that.”

“No. I lost my leg. You lost a year.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“I would’ve grown too old, eventually,” Syrio admits. “And I get enough glory to keep me going through my students. I just wish Arya could keep her partners now.”

“Did you do pairs skating?”

“Oh, no. I skated alone. I was brought on to train just Arya when she was younger, but she was so exceptional when she skated with Mycah. They were meant to be partners.”

Gendry wants to ask about Mycah, but Syrio pulls into the gravel lot and parks by the small building. He hands Gendry the money he needs to pay the fee for the tow truck. Typically, Gendry was not in the habit of accepting money, but since it is one hundred percent Syrio’s fault that Gendry’s truck got towed, he makes an exception this time. 

* * *

“We need music,” Arya says. She pushes some stray hair behind her ears and grabs a drink of water. 

Syrio smiles and pulls a little speaker out of his pack. “What would you like to listen to?”

“Surprise us.”

“You haven’t asked for music for a while.” Arya shrugs and Syrio starts one of his playlists. “Alright, take Gendry’s hand,” he instructs. Gendry reaches his hand out to Arya who accepts it. They run through a lift and Syrio claps. “Good! Now do it again a little faster!”

They both nod and follow the instructions. Arya had been rigid everytime Gendry lifted her since they began practicing, but after last night she had been a little less tense in their lifts, which was a start. 

“Very fluid! I would like to see it again, please. I think my handiwork may be the reason,” he smiles.

“Don’t be too sure, Syrio,” Arya says. She does a quick spin on her own for flourish before she makes her way back to Gendry.

“Show off,” he teases. 

She nearly smiles as an 80s beat starts to fill the rink. Arya freezes. 

“Turn it off,” she asks. Syrio rapidly reaches for the switch but instead he just turns it up. “Syrio, please.” Syrio accidentally skips and the track moves forward.

_ I’ve got the brains, you’ve got the looks  _

“What’s wrong?” Gendry asks. 

Arya clasps her hand over her mouth and and skates off the rink. 

“Arya—“ Syrio shouts. 

“What’s wrong?” Gendry asks again, to Syrio. 

“Mycah,” he says, as if it's a way of answering. “It was their last routine before he died.” Syrio gives up on attempting to shut the track off and chases after Arya. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was so much fun aha most of my first scenes i had written out had some variation of them in this chapter aha and thank u all for your patience with my updating! im doing my best aha this fic is just taking me longer than it usually does but i’m sure the next update will be up within a few weeks !


	5. we're dancing in a world alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> arya reflects on some of the painful losses in her life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING there is talk about mycah’s death later in the chapter 
> 
> ((also yeah i have no explanation for why i came back after five month absence with only 2k words aksks but here i am 🤪))

**  
Raise a glass, 'cause I'm not done saying it**   
**They all wanna get rough, get away with it**   
**Let 'em talk 'cause we're dancing in this world alone**   
**We're all alone**   
**We're alone**

**All the double-edged people and schemes**   
**They make a mess then go home and get clean**   
**You're my best friend, so we're dancing in a world alone**

**A World Alone ~ Lorde**

_Arya_

“I don’t know. I’m getting nervous,” Mycah chokes out. His face is as red as his hair and he keeps clutching his forehead like he’s getting dizzy.

“Don’t,” Arya whispers. “We’re on in fifteen minutes, it’s okay. We’ll be great.”

Mycah starts to pull on his hair and Arya pushes his hand away. Syrio would freak if he saw that Mycah tousled his hair up too much. “It’s fine,” she murmurs. “Just pretend we’re back home. It’s just like another practice,” she says and gives him a smile. 

“It’s not at all like that.” Mycah stands up and starts to pace around the bench. “The whole world is watching. And Ned, and his parents.”

“Well, not the _whole_ world,” Arya says, trying to give him a little optimism. Though she can’t help him with the fact that Ned and his family will be watching the routine. 

“Pretty damn close. It’s not like we can just cut it out of the video if we mess up. This is live. Everyone will see.”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m not planning on messing up.”

Mycah sighs. 

“Just pretend it’s just you and me, and we’re just practicing alone. Maybe Syrio can be there, but… it’s just you and me, right? Like it usually is.”

“How can you be so calm about this?”

“I grew up with a camera in my face, remember?”

Mycah smiles. He grabs her arm and pulls her into a hug. “You’re my best friend.”

Arya grins against his chest. “I know. You're my best friend, too.”

“I know.”

“Alright, let’s move it. We’ll do great tonight and even better, tomorrow,” she promises. 

* * *

Arya keeps checking on the clear bandage covering her ribs. She has herself half convinced that if she doesn’t check on the new ink every few minutes, it will disappear. Arya runs her finger over the plastic, even though the skin is red and irritated and she really needs to stop touching it. It makes her remember Mycah. 

* * *

“Are you sure you lost your necklace in here?” Shireen asks. “I haven’t been able to find it anywhere.” She had been helping look through their dorm all morning for the gold necklace.

“I’m positive. I had it last night when I was doing my homework and this morning I noticed it was gone. I haven’t been anywhere else.”

“Hmm.” Shireen pulls the pillows off of Arya’s bed to dig through and Arya climbs under the bed for the third time. “What did you say it looked like again?”

“It’s gold and the charm is the five Olympic rings.”

“Did I ever tell you that my cousin was in the Olympics the same year as you?”

Arya tries to not think about the Olympics. It only reminds her of Mycah. 

“Nope.” Shireen moves on to dig through the blankets again. “Who?”

“Gendry Waters,” she says. “He was on the hockey team, but I doubt you guys would have ran into each other,” she laughs softly. Arya bangs her head on the bottom of her bed. “Are you alright?”

Arya pushes herself out from under the bed. “Yeah, yeah, fine, um, thanks for looking. I think I’ll probably try again after class.” She grabs her backpack. There’s no way Shireen could’ve known. Her laugh didn’t sound malicious. She probably really just thought that there was no reason for the two to meet. And there wasn’t. But Arya didn’t really want to stay in the room and find out if Shireen knew or not. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize how insensitive that was,” Shireen winces. 

“No, it’s fine,” Arya says. “I’ve got to go to class.” She hates when people pity her. 

* * *

Arya finds the charm later that night. She pulls all of the boxes out from under her bed, and picks up the shoebox she had brought with her skates in it. She doesn’t even know why she brought them with her. She hasn’t put them on in over a year. But somehow in the middle of the night, her necklace had fallen off and landed neatly in the box with her skates. She moves the skates to the top shelf in her closet and promises to take them home over Spring Break. She really can’t handle Mycah haunting her right now.

She decides that night that she does not want to be known at Riverrun University as the girl who made it to the Olympics, but never got to finish her competition. She cuts off her hair that she used to braid like her Aunt Lyanna’s for each competition to her chin and bleaches it in the sink. She dyes it green the next night and it looks so blotchy and doesn’t cover her roots. She knows that she never would have gotten away with it if she were still skating and knows that she loves it. 

* * *

Arya tugs her skates off in the locker room. The music was _still_ playing, and she could still hear it even off of the ice. She can’t stop thinking about their competition and his death and everytime she thought about him in the years after. She thinks she’ll choke up her own heart. 

She doesn’t bother changing out of her leotard and just pulls her shoes and coat on. Syrio knocks on the door to the locker room. 

“Arya,” he calls. 

She wipes her eyes with her sleeves. 

She doesn’t want to talk to him right now, but she knows that he won’t leave unless he knows that she’s alright. 

“Arya,” he says again. 

He tests the handle of the door and pushes it open. 

He sighs when he sees her in her coat with tears running down her face. 

“I’m sorry, Arya.” He walks towards her and sits down on the bench by her. 

“I forgot that I still had the song on there. And you know I’m the best with technology.” He gives her a small smile, but Arya can’t even laugh. 

“You know it’s not your fault,” Syrio says and sets a hand on her shoulder. But he’s wrong, it is her fault. 

She pulls him into a hug and presses her face into his sweater. She can’t stop her tears and all she wants is to see Mycah again.

“You don’t need to blame yourself for it. His death was a horrible, horrible thing, but you don’t need to blame yourself. I should have paid more attention to you two. Maybe I could’ve talked you out of going if I had paid more attention.” He kisses the top of her head. 

“I miss him very much,” he says.

Arya nods.

* * *

Arya closes her bedroom door carefully. She didn’t want to wake anyone up, but she couldn’t toss and turn any longer. She walks down the hallway to her father’s study with Nymeria closely following her. It’s been almost ten years and still, everytime she walks into his office and sees his empty chair, everything feels wrong. The office had dusted over the years of sitting as undisturbed as possible and the shine from the moon highlights just how long it had been since Arya last saw her father. 

She turns to the wooden hutch. A layer of dust coats everything in the case as well. Her father was the only one who had the key, and he was the only person allowed to touch the trophies and medals that belonged to his little sister. No one had found the key since her father passed. 

Arya used to spend forever when she was little in front of the case, admiring the small skaters on her trophies, and the shine of her medals. When she was really small, sometimes her Aunt Lyanna would lay a hand on her shoulder and promise that she could have just as many trophies and medals one day, maybe more, if she worked really hard. Her Aunt hadn’t laid a hand on her shoulder in almost twenty years. 

Arya sits cross legged in front of the case. She can see her reflection in the glass, her eyes red and puffy and her hair mussed. 

Her father had put his favorite photo of Lyanna in the case, along with her skates, and the necklace that he eventually gave to Arya as long as she promised to take really good care of it for her thirteenth birthday. She never takes it off. She thought she had lost that morning years ago, and it felt like knives were twisting in her stomach the entire time it was missing. 

Arya stares at the photo in the center of the case. Her father always told her that she looked so much like Lyanna and Arya could see it now. Lyanna beams on the podium, holding up her gold medal, her engagement ring sparkling in the bright fluorescent lights. 

Nymeria rests her head on Arya’s lap and Arya rubs her hand over Nymeria’s ears. 

After a while, hears a set of footsteps in the hallway. “I heard you leave your room. I just wanted to check and see if you were okay,” Gendry says. 

“I’m okay.”

“You sure?”

Arya shrugs. “Not really.” 

“I’m sorry to hear about Mycah. I never knew.”

“I’m sure you probably ignored any news about me like the plague. I did for you, too.” She takes a minute to swallow and think about her next words. “But that’s kind of you to say.”

She doesn’t hear him walk away yet.

“You can come in.” Gendry steps into the office slowly. The office definitely knew how to make people feel like outsiders. 

“This was my father’s office,” she says. 

“I figured.”

He sits down on the floor beside her and looks at the trophy case she hasn't peeled her eyes away from since she heard Gendry.

“Is that Lyanna?” 

“She won her first Gold when she was sixteen.”

“I didn’t know she won when she was that young.” When Arya was sixteen, her and Mycah were always finding ways into parties with upperclassmen. They started to take skating more seriously when Syrio threatened to resign after Mycah tore a ligament in his knee from the two of them rolling into a ditch after drinking too much. 

Her mother had been too holed up in the hospital with Robb to even care that Arya had been breaking rules. 

“She died when she was twenty-seven.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be. I know what she did to your father,” Arya admits. 

Gendry lets out a hollow laugh. “He deserved it. But I am sorry that I brought her up at Nationals. That was horrible of me to say.”

“It was,” Arya says. 

He sits with her for what feels like hours, but it’s probably only been a few minutes. 

She breaks away from the glistening within the trophy case.

“We borrowed the car that Syrio had rented. Neither of us were old enough to drive it, but it didn’t matter. I drove because I was sure I would get in less trouble with my Mom if she found out. She was so distraught about Robb that she shut down.” Arya says. Her voice comes out hoarse. 

“Mycah?” Gendry asks.

“I drove us into the city because everyone knows it’s not polite to party in the village at night. We didn’t even drink anything though, because we had to compete the next day. We just wanted people to recognize us and maybe ask for autographs. Mycah wanted to stay home and watch _Dirty Dancing_ like we always did. But we had watched _Dirty Dancing_ probably a hundred times and I convinced him to go out instead.

“And then it was super late and Mycah and I decided we should head back so we could get some sleep before the long program.” Arya wipes her nose with her sleeve. She hated telling the story. She had only ever told it once, to Jon and Syrio in the hospital the week after, and when Bran and Rickon and Sansa all were worried sick about her and asking, Jon told them for her. Arya stayed in bed by her mother for a whole month. 

But unlike her mother, Arya picked herself back up, and she started brushing her hair again and signed up for a spring class. And then she signed up for another in the summer and started college fully in the fall. Sometimes people asked her about the Olympics and they asked her if she was okay after Mycah. But more than often, people had no idea who she was. And Arya liked that. 

“I crashed. I don’t know how or why since there was no snow or ice and no other car. I just lost control of the car. And Mycah died.”

She doesn’t say anything for a while

“I thought maybe he was going to be okay. We got to the hospital and I thought he was going to be fine, but he wasn’t. His parents gave up everything so he could skate. And then he died. Because of me.” 

“It wasn’t your fault,” Gendry finally says his first words since she started the story. “It was an accident.”

“I was the one driving.” 

“But it wasn’t your fault. It was an accident,” he repeats. 

“Mycah and I made the best team.“ She clenches her jaw. Gendry rests a hand on hers. She stares at their hands for a moment and expects herself to pull away, but she doesn’t.

“Are the wolf heads for him?” Gendry asks, gesturing to the tattoos on her forearm. 

Arya shakes her head. “The big one is for my dad, and the red one is for Robb. The smallest one is for my mom.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

And then she stops talking and Gendry doesn’t ask her any more questions. He just sits with her until the sun rises. 

**Author's Note:**

> i am so excited to finally share this!! it’s been in the works for a long time but i’ve just never been able to really like the ideas that i had for it but then all the sudden i got hit with the right vibe i wanted aha and here we are !! i have no idea when the next chapter will be up aha but hopefully soon!


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